Today's post is sponsored by the letter
The Crusader Challenge, as described by Rachael at Rach Writes...
Show Not Tell Crusader Challenge: In 300 words or less, write a passage (it can be an excerpt from your WIP, flash fiction, a poem, or any other writing) that shows (rather than tells) the following:
- you're scared and hungry
- it's dusk
- you think someone is following you
- and just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: shimmer, saccadic, substance, and salt.
The Pickle Shack
I don't like pickles. There's something about the process that turns a crisp cucumber into a lip puckering piece of crap that makes me want to puke. But after several minutes of searching the deserted shack, the single jar of floating green turds was the only substance that would fill the deep hole that had settled into my gut. The shimmering salt brine that held them afloat would be the only liquid I'd get today. I'd lost count of how many days I'd lived on the few berries I'd found while trying to avoid being captured by the Darkords. At least I'd have some shelter tonight.
As I reached for the dust covered container, a shadow fell across the far wall, blocking out part of the sunset's eerie pink hue that filled the room. It's saccadic movement sent chills running up the length of my spine. My trembling hand gripped the only weapon I had, the glass jar. I spun on my heels and without thinking, hurled the make shift missile across the room, missing my target by at least a foot. The jar shattered against the window's edge, spraying pickle juice everywhere and drenching the little brown squirrel sitting on the window sill. A high pitched squeal reached my ears about the same time the putrid smell of rotten pickles attacked my senses. The squirrel jumped to the floor and scurried out the partially open door to freedom, leaving a cute little trail of pickle juice foot prints. I'd had so much tension and fear built up inside me, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. Just my luck. Not only would I have nothing to eat or drink tonight, but I'd also have to live with the one smell I hated most--pickles.
That's it. 295 words. Not the best thing I've ever written, but it will have to do. Happy Crusader Day to all my Crusader Buddies.
And just for fun . . . what's your least favorite food? What smell makes you want to hurl?